Next week, my four-year-old son will bring home from school his very first reading book, along with something called a “phonics pack”. Perhaps four years of parenthood has lowered the bar when it comes to finding thrills, but I’m strangely excited about this.

Yes, it doubtless means I’ll have to learn phonics myself (the fact that four-year-olds can do it doesn’t reassure me – they can also operate an iPad better than I can); it also means I’ll have to find time in a tightly packed schedule to help my child learn how to read. But apart from these minor (OK, fairly major) adjustments, my main feeling is: great, bring it on! My son may not thank me for this, but I’m proud to come out as a pro-homework...